Kiss Me, Kill Me
by DarkAngel91398
Summary: The sons of Lord Death, Brick, Butch, and Boomer, were resurrected to be the perfect heirs to the throne. Never before had they failed to claim a soul. They would fight and survive, no matter what! But.. What if the only person who's ever understood you was at stake in the fight? How can one keep control without giving a sacrifice? RRB X PPG
1. Chapter 1

Kiss Me, Kill Me... RRB X PPG.. By Dark Angel 91398...

Buttercup: Um.. ._.ll The title?

Blossom: Yeah, that's not worrisome at all..

Bubbles: I am scared now! **Hides behind couch**

Me: Calm down! Silence! All shall be explained.. Disclaim or die, Ruffs!

RRB: Die.

Me: Fine! Death or cake!

RRB: :D Cake!

PPG: -_-ll Dark Angel 91398 doesn't own Saliva, Daredevil, Spiderman, our counterparts, or us. She does own Blade, Bomber, Blood, and Angel though they're probably not going to be in this story. Do not steal the idea or else.

Chapter One: The Making of Death's Three..

"_The dead cannot be reborn. The dead will never be one with the Mother Earth they had once known. Forever, they are lost, and forever, they will rest in peace. Eternity is their clock, soil their bed, and the dark their world.."_

Lord Death chuckled to himself, watching a funeral take part from the sanctity of the shadows with the people grim and the three caskets rested safely under the ground with a decoration on each.

A particularly hairy man, arms large and furry with black hair, bit his lip and a slender, pale woman with fashionably long, tangled locks clung to him with sobs. Both dressed in black and held flowers in their clenched fists.

The wind picked up speed and the man's purple-white striped hat flickered back slightly, his cape of importance wavering in the wind.

A sadistic smirk spread on the entity's face, recognizing both of the distressed parents immediately. The group of mourners were dissolving in the strengthening wind as Lord Death's reddening claws waved in a pattern, but the parents stayed, much to his disdain.

Those two lovers had betrayed him in ancient times, long before this funeral, and the anger burned in his soul brightly like a fire in the darkest woods of the village in the dead of a midnight winter.

The weather continued to grow into a horrible storm, but yet the two refused Death the respect to budge from where they were rooted.

Lord Death's lips curled into a snarling sneer of pure fury and he revealed himself to the treacherous duo.

"Master Deception, Mistress Seduction." Lord Death snarled angrily as he leapt from the shadows to in front of the two. "Or should I say Mojo and Sedusa?"

"Lord Death.. Or, as the other mortals call you, Him, You know we don't use those titles anymore." the black-haired man scolded sternly with his green eyes staring at the graves as if Lord Death wasn't there.

"Oh, that's right. Because you two betrayed me!" the clawed man snapped irritably as he tapped a black, thigh-high booted foot.

"You killed someone of our ranks, Him! Were we to stand aside, to allow you to slaughter our colleagues, to murder all who you despised, to-to-?!" Mojo demanded as the rain poured.

"It was for the cause I believed in. If Lord Negligence would have been a tad more open towards me and my beliefs.." Him stated firmly.

"All to move up in the group?" Sedusa scoffed, lifting her head to glare at the former with angry red eyes and abandoned tears. "He was our friend!"

"Pish-posh! He was a nuisance! And why would you dare abandon your titles?!" he sneered.

"We wanted normal lives." Mojo snarled, his teeth fanged and bright white.

"We didn't want to be immortal and be the cause of grief everywhere." Sedusa argued bitterly with clenched fists.

"And this is the price you pay: You watch the things you created die." Him jeered, gesturing to the grave behind him.

"Take it back." Mojo growled as Sedusa took in a sharp gasp.

"Make me. Oh, wait! I forgot! You disowned your powers!" Him scoffed with scorn radiating from every pore of his body.

"Must you make life so hard? We just lost our little boys.." Sedusa snapped angrily, her eyes starting to tear up.

"That is obvious, isn't it?" he snickered coldly with dark eyes. "You're all in black, you're crying, and there are three little graves in front of you. A bit of a dead giveaway."

"S-shut up!" Mojo snarled. "Be quiet!"

"Of course.. I pity you.." Him smirked. "And that's why.. Today, you leave as well."

The two mourners blinked, Sedusa from her tears and Mojo from his glowering, and Lord Death grinned evilly as he reached out with an open red claw for the traitors.

The world of the former Master Deception and Mistress Seduction went a bright red before black, the last words gasped being the names of their deceased boys.

Lord Death watched the black blood of his former comrades shimmer before evaporating into the air and the bodies disintegrate into dust that blew in the wind. The way all immortals disappeared, bid the earthly world a final farewell.

"Goodbye.. Old friends.." the life-snatcher sighed as the dust swirled in the wind. "It's a shame.. We fell apart over one thing.."

The quiet enveloped Him and he couldn't indulging in the thought of his old comrades wrecking havoc with him.

How lonely was his life after all? His immortal friends, they were longing to become mortal or were mortal.

Lord Death's eyes wandered to the tiny graves and realization hit him as he slowly approached the petite graves. His eyes scanned the obituaries encrypted on the headstones and his thoughts churned about like stones in an avalanche.

One day, his reign would have to end and a new lord of demise would have control of the domain.

This was knowledge that Lord Death had embraced and known since the day he had been demoted.

There were people who had wanted Lord Death gone since the beginning of time and some would attempt it one day. Who rule with an iron fist, know exactly how to control?

Unless.. Unless he had a heir... Or maybe.. Three of them.

Lord Death had control of whether one was to leave life's atmosphere or not and the thoughts stirred about in his mind rapidly until he found himself kneeling on the middle grave.

"So.. Your name is..?" Lord Death asked to no one in particular.

The name "Brick Arias Jojo" was carved deep in the stone and a red baseball cap had rested on the top on the headstone.

Lord Death gently touched the ground with a claw, swirling the earth.

"Brick, huh? What a short little life you've had.." he sighed deeply.

Lord Death looked at the other two graves, read the names aloud, and twisted the dirt of each grave. The man brushed back a stray lock of black hair and stood, brushing dirt from his knees.

"What long lives you can have.."

Lord Death grinned widely as his plan brewed in the dark corners of his brain and he laughed.

* * *

The darkness in the boiling, bubbling cauldron swirled in spins on the shimmering surface of the deep poisonous iridescent liquid as Lord Death stirred the concoction with a pure silver rod.

"Just a few more ingredients.." Lord Death murmured as he tugged a few strands of coal black from his head. "All it needs is a few more things.. Dew from a moonlit meadow, black blood from an immortal, wolf's bane, dragon scales, phoenix feathers; check."

Lord Death twirled the brew around and watched the colors fade into red, then green, next blue, and finally a deep purple. With a large burst that splatter the floor slightly, the man smirked and dipped a claw into the pot.

The brew was a mixture of an icy, snowy temperature and a fiery, blistering lava heat that caused Lord Death to cackle. He yanked the appendage out and dipped a ladle into the soup.

Lord Death meticulously carried the spoon over to where three children laid, looking as if they were in a comatose. He gently examined the first boy, Brick.

Brick's flaming red hair was short, bangs fringed and covering the upper half of his eyes. Strangely enough, there were no marks of a violent death or signs of sickness on the boy's apricot-colored skin.

The youngster was donned in a red shirt with black frill and black pants, his feet covered in black boots, but this did nothing to contrast against the look of slumber.

Lord Death warily pressed his hopes against the floor and sprinkled a bit over the child's head. An eager silence filled the air and Lord Death squashed all hopes of the solution working; after all, this was a little boy who had been away for quite a while.

After moments passed, Lord Death sighed as he shook his head sadly and turned to empty the brewing kettle. The brew was either not strong enough or was completely incompetent of making the boys-.

"Errm.. Ugh.." a voice groaned, full of pain. "I-It hurts.. Mama.."

Lord Death spun around and saw the redhead writhing in what was apparently hurt, his tiny hands clutching his stomach desperately. Excitement stirred in the immortal and he sped over to the child's side.

"Brick?" Lord Death asked quietly. "Brick, are you okay?"

Brick ignored the questioner and let out a growling noise as if the hurt had cut through him terribly. The child twisted, his back arching, as he squirmed.

Lord Death held back a grin and filled two more spoonfuls before observing the other two children who were still unrevised. He brushed back Brick's hair soothingly as he noted what he saw.

The second child, a boy named Butch Maxton Jojo with bowl-like hair as black as the midnight sky when the stars and moon died away, didn't have a scratch on his body but did have a prominent cowlick.

His fists were clamped together on his chest and his outfit was similar to Brick's though in green. A look of annoyance and calm was written on the boy's unconscious face.

The last boy was named Boomer Cameren Jojo and had hair as blond as gold. Like the others, there were no indications the boys had passed violently or in sickness.

His hair flowed to both sides of his head into two little, upward curves and two tiny hairs stuck out from the top of his head where his part was.

Lord Death bit his lip, pondering whether this was a good idea or bad, and decided to bring the children back from their dark and heavy slumber. Brick would need his brothers after all; all would rule the kingdom as equals.

The entity splashed the liquid over the other boys' heads and waited patiently, ruffling the redhead's hair to allay the boy before he could do anything else. The whimpers and snarls of pain filled the room shortly.

"I-I.. I-I feel s-so sick, M-Ma.." Boomer cried, his closed eyes scrunching together. "Make it stop.."

"M-Make it stop!" Butch roared angrily, his form tossing and turning much more furiously than his brothers.

"Wake up, boys. Wake and talk to.." Lord Death began.

What would these kids call him? Him? Lord Death? Seeing how the boys were orphaned, Lord Death sighed and gave into the first name that had almost slipped from his tongue.

"Wake up and talk to your dad." Lord Death commanded as his claw caressed each boy's hair.

Brick's eyes were the first to open and Lord Death blinked in shock.

When he had imagined the redhead's eyes, he had seen the color of hazel or green. The boy's eyes were neither; they were a blood-red color like a ruby and shimmered like one.

"D-Dad?" Brick frowned, sitting up and trembling.

"Yes?" the man smiled.

Brick contemplated the words spoken and frowned as he couldn't recall anything. Was this person serious or kidding? All Brick knew was he had two brothers, they were all triplets, and he was confused.

The child looked around before seeing his brothers shaking and he rattled the blond roughly.

"Boomer. Boomer. Boomer!" Brick whined. "Get up and get Butch."

"B-But.. What about D-Dad?" Boomer moaned, opening an ocean blue eye to peek at his brother.

Boomer forced his body up weakly and nearly collapsed, his mind spinning. He grabbed onto Brick and clung to him, shaking. Brick sighed and gingerly pushed the other boy off.

Lord Death found the two irresistible; they were absolutely perfect as heirs to the underworld. No one would suspect such innocent looking boys to be the causes of death and demise!

"Butch, wake up." Lord Death demanded, approaching the final kid. "I know your awakening is painful, but if you get up, I'll give you something."

"Not interested." Butch growled, his voice rough with agony. "I don't care."

"Butch.." the elder sighed.

"Get up." Brick instructed firmly. "Now. Or else, stupid."

Butch let out a moan, forcing his form up from the cramped position it had been in before, and glared at Brick with deep forest green eyes. Evidently, the child hated authority.

Lord Death's smirk grew as he realized how well suited the three were to be his sons and to be the next in line. Perfection of the first degree.

"Good boys." Lord Death praised. "Now.. What titles to dub you..?"

The boys blinked and Brick faintly remembered a different man, one with green eyes like Butch's and thick black hair.

Lord Death, however, did not realize this as he thought of the little creatures in front of him.

Yes, the boys would need training. Yes, they would need more of the brew until they were strong enough to be able to overcome the shove of life back to death. But..

The heirs to the Darkworlds would be the death and misery of all who dare stood on the side of allowing both light and darkness in the world.

The boys were alive and nothing would ever be the same in the world again.

~End of Chapter!~


	2. Chapter 2

Kiss Me, Kill Me... RRB X PPG.. By Dark Angel 91398...

Mojo: DX Why am I dead?! That makes no sense, absolute nonsense that I, the ultimate evil parent, be deceased, no more, dead!

Sedusa: You?! What about ME?!

Him: What about you two? You're dead! Aha! Ahahahaha!

RRB:.. Would you shut up and disclaim since you lamebrains are all secondary characters!?

Other villains: :'( That wasn't nice..

RRB: And that's why we're your kids. Now disclaim! XP

Mojo, Him, Sedusa: Dark Angel 91398 doesn't own Movie Star Planet, Frankenweenie, Cartoon Network, the PPG, the RRB, or us. She does technically own this story. This chapter is mainly focused on the Greens.

Chapter Two: The Dragon, The Maid, And The Mistress

Looking back on his rather rash decision to rebirth the trio of orphans, Lord Death winced. They were groomed to the fullest extent to be the perfection the kingdom needed, but...

"OW! BRICK! OW! OW! OW!" a shrill boyish cry came from down the hall of Death manor, most likely from the game room.

"SILENCE, BOOMER! STOP BEING A LITTLE CHILD AND ADMIT IT!" the loud voice of Brick snapped, falling on Lord Death's elfish ears.

"YEAH, YOU DUMB-!" another rough, craggy voice growled.

Lord Death sighed, hearing enough to know that the youngest was being picked on again. Forth time within a fifteen minute span to be precise.

Rising from the papers on the chestnut desk in front of his face, the red man brushed back a tress of ancient black that was lightening to a silver color that was a symbol of his aging. It was times like this that he actually considered letting his teenaged sons rule while he retired, only to be reminded that they were a little too youthful.

Eleven centuries certainly did not affect them as much as it did Lord Death. As all Immortals or resurrections that rose by an Immortal, the aging process was sluggish and slow; thus the boys were only sixteen. After hitting a certain age, the Immortal would stop growing and continue through life the way he had stopped.

The door to the room where the boys continued their constant bickering and teasing swung open swiftly. Lord Death narrowed his eyes at the males who interrupted the very important work he had been occupied with before.

Oh, if only the behavior of the boys had stayed the same, the father figure would never have to deal with this! He wouldn't be prematurely going gray! He would never have to-!

"Dad?" a voice asked uncertainly. "Dad, are you feeling well?"

Lord Death blinked and saw the boys staring at him with wide eyes like a doe's before the hunter's gun, almost Bambi-like. It was still a little odd for the title to be used, the name "Dad" sounding like a foreign language.

"I'm fine, thank you. I could hear your commotion from down the hallway and I was unable to return to my work with all the noise. I suggest you stop." Lord Death huffed.

"Yessir.." the chorus spoke as one, their voices meshed into a single one.

"Good. You're still not done with work today." the ancient man spoke.

A groan rose from the boys as their father walked out, his thoughts clouded as he mentally marked things that he had noticed about the boys.

Brick huffed a particularly loud moan of protest and his blood red eyes glowered at his blond brother infuriatedly. How was it that Boomer always managed to do the most moronic things and always dragged his siblings in?!

Brick was unsure, but combed his fiery red hair back, tucking his bangs out of his face. The rest fell in jagged spines down his back and flowed like a waterfall to his lower back as it had since he was nine.

"What brilliance!" Brick spat venomously, his words laced with sarcasm in every letter. "Now we have to finish working!"

"T'is not my fault.. You should have thought about being kind!" Boomer pouted.

While Brick continued to ramble about everything (mainly Boomer and his unusual mannerisms like dunking a jelly bagel in his tea), Boomer let his thoughts wander into the dark abyss that was his mind.

His sparkling ocean eyes became as glassy as a snake's and Boomer wondered whether his golden hair was parted evenly like it should be.

'I hope it is.. The three jagged wings won't look good and they're look crooked! Then, my cowlick will be off..' the blond boy winced.

A loud yelp filled the air as Boomer's two piece, thin cowlick was yanked with the force of a charging bull and Brick laughed. Boomer spun around and shot Butch a watery glower.

The green-eyed brute was too busy enjoying the girlish yelp that had exploded to notice though. Butch enjoyed watching people in pain, especially people much weaker than he.

The spikes on Butch's head wavered as Butch's thunderous laughter escaped his mouth, the midnight black locks looking more like the wings of a flying bat or a raven as they flipped jovially. Butch's forest green eyes opened finally after five minutes and met Boomer's dead on.

"What?" the green-eyed boy smirked. "You know, Boomer, if you want to look as good as I do, you should probably start hunting more."

"I wouldn't want to look you if my life was dependent on it." Boomer mumbled bitterly.

Brick howled with laughter, his voice calling out the words "You're really in trouble now!", and Butch's smirk turned to a cold, killer scowl.

The only thing that honestly had any power over Butch and protected Boomer from his wrath was the sound of their father commanding them to go out and finish their work.

"You are going to get hurt if you ever say that again.." Butch vowed. "I'll get my revenge and mark my words, it will not be pretty!"

"Fools!" Brick hissed, pulling a red cloak around his body. "Hurry up and grab your weaponry or whatever else! We have jobs to do."

The leader pulled the hood up and tucked a large bowie knife under the loose wrap before waiting impatiently for the other two. He tapped a leather boot-clad foot.

Butch sighed defeatedly. This would have to wait until later. Most likely much later since work was flowing much heavier than it had in the past when he was still a novice to the job.

Butch yanked the hood of his invisibility wrap up and tucked a silver sword under an arm. The metal was cold, even through his shirt. He just prayed today would be quick.

The gales were at their strongest point, forcing the old cherry and apples trees to clash together violently. The branches, bare from the cold weather of fall and promising chill of the upcoming winter, clung to one another; stuck like a pig in the tightest spaces of the ragged fence on the old farm by the creek.

Butch waited eagerly under those ancient relics, polishing stubborn residue from the emeralds in the grip of his weapon. Normal human emeralds were a light colored green; Butch's were a deep color like a murky, boggy swamp filled with algae and aquatic plants that had never felt the warmth of the sun.

The cold of the mortal world didn't bother him much as he sat there. If anything, it was refreshing and a welcome change to the forever warm chambers in the manor. The warmth made his metabolism unmanageable.

But, then again, the blood in his veins was deadly. Though he looked human, Butch was not. As a child, he often would cross the thought that maybe he was never really human. In his blood swam villainy and death; in him, the poison of wolf's bane and violence of the dragon.

"Brute! Brute!"a voice called. "My lady, get back here! There's a storm brewing!"

Butch's heart began to race as the emeralds glowed like a star and pulsated before fading to their usual shade of green. The hunt was to begin soon.

"Nonsense, maid! I'm perfectly fine!" a throaty voice snapped.

The sounds of footsteps approached the hollow of the orchards where Butch lie in wait, his narrowed eyes on the spot where he was sure the being would enter.

"Buttercup! Fetch me my coat!" the former, Brute, commanded.

"No! I shall not! You're going to get hurt!" Buttercup snarled.

Brute presumably stood on the spot where Butch had predicted and he smirked. Drawing his saber upward, Butch slashed through the aged branch above to the right of him. The gales assisted in its crashing and a sadistic grin grew...

Only to the satisfying sounds of pained screams to never reach his ears. A triumphant yell echoed in the air and Butch saw that there was absolutely nothing under the heavy tree limb. A girl's shoe rested near it and his eyes trailed up.

"Miss Brute, are you okay?" a girl demanded, her shoulder length hair brushed back by a handkerchief.

"I-I'm fine, Buttercup.. W-What the hell was that?!" Brute demanded.

"You know, you should really learn you're not going to get anyone of this manor anytime soon!" Buttercup snapped.

Butch reeled back as his mind made the connection: _She could see him. _Astonished, Butch only blinked and the girl, Buttercup, shot him a dagger-like look with her glinting emerald eyes.

"Who.. Are you talking to?" Brute frowned.

"The boy hiding under the tree." Buttercup sneered. "It's no use hiding; I can see you!"

"Well, I guess you can say you've caught me." Butch sighed, pulling the hood of his cloak down to reveal himself.

Brute gaped at the mysterious boy, admiring his beautiful forest eyes and midnight black hair. Struck dumb, she could only glance between her maid and the stranger.

"You can't take my mistress." Buttercup growled. "I vowed to watch over her and if that means I have to protect her from you, so be it."

"For a girl, you sure can talk quite big of yourself." Butch retorted with an icy smile.

"I don't promise to not fulfill." she hissed.

Butch found himself curious. Where did this mortal girl get such spirit, such passion? Where was her femininity? She was.. Bold. To top that off, she could see him even with his cloak!

"Well, I'm going to need someone to slaughter today. Care to volunteer since you so kindly decided to be a savior?" Butch demanded, flashing his sword and planting it firmly in the earth.

Buttercup mentally recoiled; this boy.. Was Lord Death's son? Her head spun a second. She only believed him to be a troubled, poor youth from the village or town. But, instead, he was Lord Disaster. Or.. Was it Master? Whichever title, it did not matter. What did was that she had interfered with his schedule.

"Of course not. I have a mistress to attend to." Buttercup replied coldly. "Without me, who else would protect her?"

Butch felt his anger bubble up. His temper was short, the anger fierce and deadly. With much force, he shoved it down.

"Then, what else do you have in mind?" Butch inquired.

"You and I could always.. Compromise." Brute suggested, loading honey and oil into her voice, winking coyly.

"I don't think so. I don't deal with anyone with a innocent-washed, moral-deprived soul like yours in that way. I only deal with people like you the only way I know how." he sneered, stabbing his sword deeper.

His stomach flipped and flopped sourly; her implied meaning sicked him. Butch never really enjoyed the company of girls. Sure, he had admired the way one walked with a beautiful, floating gait or found himself liking the way one's eyes shone. Aside from that, Butch found confusion and disdain in his mind when he was near girls. Girls were nothing more than a task, another rabbit for the hunter. And on top of that, this particular girl just made his mood worsen.

"Don't even dream of it!" Buttercup howled.

"Who gave you any authority over me!?" Butch roared, his forest green eye twitching rapidly.

If there was one mistake this pathetic girl had made, it was telling him what to do. Butch never listened to anyone. Admittedly, Brick was considered someone, but aside from him, Butch never obeyed a soul.

Brute gulped as she imagined seeing Butch in a horrible, dastardly way. As stealthily as she could, the young mistress scampered away into the orchard to hide behind a large apple tree.

Buttercup found herself paralyzed as Butch's eyes locked onto hers. They were different now. Before, they had been human and glistening, the pupil round. Now, they... The forest green eyes were a toxicated green and vicious with a catlike, slash of a pupil.

"No idiotic, pathetic wench is going to tell me what to do! No moronic, little girl is ever going to control me!"

His voice was a deep, throaty one with a slightly odd echo to it like the rattle of a snake before the strike. Buttercup felt her heart pound as she noticed the way his teeth were sharper and his nails claws.

At that moment, Buttercup did the only sensible thing one can do when faced with an angered, demon-like person whose powers were divine and wicked. Buttercup bolted as fast as she could.

Butch let out a low snicker of amusement. She honestly thought she could run?! He could fly! He cause earthquakes with just a powerful stomp! He turn into a dragon and she honestly thought she could run?!

He allowed Buttercup to dart away and watched as the last flash of her raven black hair disappeared. The seconds ticked by and after ten of them, Butch's patience wore out. With a twisted grin, he chased in pursuit.

The thrill of the chase flowed his mind in an eager manner. If he really wanted, Butch could just swing his sword to destroy the trees and catch her. Or just find her by the scent that he had noticed around her; the one of mint and blooming moonflowers that haunted her like a ghost.

If he was so desperate, he could just fly above in the air and ambush her. Butch, however, refused. Challenges were always welcomed as the chase was the fun part. She seemed to know the paths well, based on the way she vanished, and he expected a quick end.

Buttercup pressed a cold hand to her beating heat in a vain attempt to control the way it slammed against her ribcage.

Although she didn't honestly anticipate Butch to hear the pounding thump of her heart rate, concern made her try to calm down in case his hearing was extremely precise.

Butch didn't seem to know the woods. Buttercup was grateful for that small advantage that she had. Only someone from her village or a person who was an ally of hers would have knowledge of the gigantic hollow tree that rested nearest to the meadow.

The only thing that honestly terrified the maiden was the prospect of a wandering Brute in the midst of Lord Death's son being furious. If he so desired, he could obliterate the young mistress which made the maid scared.

Footsteps crunched outside the hideaway the maid had taken and she held her breath. Prayers, said silently, still seemed so loud.

"Oh, maid!~ Where are you?" the raspy tone of Butch shouted.

The panic that hit Buttercup was swallowed down whole. She knew too well that Butch had no clue of the secret space that the tree had. He only wanted to scare her, force her to jump out of her skin and scream as she ran with her light green-and-white dress billowing in the winds.

"I just want to apologize for getting so angry at you; I never meant to scare you. I vow that I would never, ever dare imagine hurting a hair on that pretty little head of yours." he called.

Buttercup was skeptical of his supposed sorrow. His voice was still harsh like nails across glass. Here, in the shadows, she was safe from Butch's dangerous temper and his malevolent deception. If she even dared to peek into the orchard, Butch would take her as his victim.

"Godforsaken wretch! Get the hell out and come here, so I can cut your fucking head from your body!" Butch screamed angrily, sounding more like a toddler having a temper tantrum than a centuries old teen.

"I will kill everyone and everything in this goddamned manor if you refuse to reveal where you're hiding, you wretched wraith! Get the hell over here!"

The shriek was closer and louder than before; something that made Buttercup wary. His patience was wearing thinner than a sheet of rice paper and it wouldn't be soon until Butch gave up to head back to his lair.

Buttercup heard his heavy boot steps storm away from the area and she let out a small sigh. Relief poured through her heart. She would live another day to see the sun rise and set, to see the stars and moon-!

"I found you!"

Buttercup's emerald eyes shot open in shock and stare in complete alarm as she found Butch smirking that would have shamed every grinner before him (even the Cheshire Cat) to the point of depression and his clawed hand snared her wrist.

"Let me go!" Buttercup screeched. "Let me go, you demon!"

Butch's evil, demented laughter pierced Buttercup's armor and he dragged her from her previously safe refuge. A pained hiss escaped from between Buttercup's clenched teeth. Butch's vice grip was like plunging into an icy cold sea and being trapped under the ice.

"Lemme go!"

Butch's gaze brushed past the maid's own and horror planted itself inside her mind as his eyes trailed down. Buttercup felt an angry rage burn inside. With her free hand, Buttercup slapped the boy across the face.

Her eyes widened. She just slapped an angry Immortal who was one of the most powerful and was the son of Lord Death. He had a sword and she.. Was defenseless. Not a thing would stop him from slicing her into tiny shreds and ripping her throat out.

A powerful, tense silence that was thick enough to be dissected permeated the air. Butch's eyes flashed to her emerald ones and she was a deer in firing range of the hunter's best gun. A soft purr filled her ears.

"You hit hard for a girl." Butch chuckled without a drop of beastliness in his voice.

"If you don't release me, you'll find out how much harder I can hit." Buttercup threatened.

Butch's hold relaxed and slipped down away from Buttercup's now bruised wrist. She roughly disregarded his presence and almost walked away. Almost. His hand shot out and caught her by the large white bow of the apron on her dress.

"Where do you think you're heading off to?" Butch frowned.

"I have to find my mistress." the maid replied in a bittersweet sigh.

"I never finished claiming a soul, thanks to your oh-so-valiant acts." he jeered.

"You're not going to get one from this manor." she scowled.

"Is that so? Well then.." he grinned. "You want to volunteer your services to the manor of Lord Death."

Buttercup felt her face pale and Butch smirked. Evidently, he was pleased with himself at making her blanched.

"I-I can't.. I-I am already serving the family and manor of the Plutoniums." Buttercup excused.

"Humph.. Be that way.. I suppose you're hoping I'll leave this matter alone and forget it?" Butch sighed.

"In a way, I really am hoping.." she murmured.

"As sorry as I am," he said with a great douse of sarcasm. "But, I have a suggestion."

"Well, I might as well hear you out." she mumbled.

"You have to visit me." he blurted.

With an eyebrow cocked, Buttercup pursed her lips. Why was it visitation? Why was it not some dreadful torment of some unnatural kind? In a way, she was grateful; she wouldn't suffer or be pained. In another, however, she was wincing; spending time with a son of Lord Death was pure insanity.

"Can I ask why?" the maid sighed.

".. Because I find you amusing. You're.. Different from that other girl." Butch shrugged awkwardly. "Don't think it's because I favor you and I want to propose marriage or any other obscene, wild reason. You're simply fun to chase."

"And, if I may ask, would I ever think any of those stupid things? The last thing on my mind, and forever will it be, are romantic things like betrothals." she scoffed.

Butch felt his cheeks start to glow red and swallowed nervously, hoping that Buttercup would believe it to be from the wind gusts. The heat was alien. Butch had never felt like this.

"So, we have a deal then?" the reaper purred.

"I.. I don't know. I need time to think.. And time to find my charge." the girl sighed.

"I'll visit you next full moon." he promised.

"That's not very far away." she pointed out.

"That's the point." he grinned.

With a roll of her eyes, Buttercup walked away. And Butch found himself admiring the way she was.


	3. Chapter 3

Kiss Me, Kill Me... RRB X PPG.. By Dark Angel 91398...

Sedusa: I still think-!

Him: YOU CAN THINK?!

RRB: ******Hiding chuckles**

Sedusa: **Glares** Don't think I won't ground you!

RRB: ._. **Le Poker Face!**

Mojo: Dark Angel owns nothing, nada, squat, absolutely!

Everyone else: THEY GET IT! XP

Chapter Three:

Brick sighed as he noticed A.) dinner was meatloaf, mashed potatoes with gravy, and peas – Brick hated peas-, B.) Butch was actually in a kind of cheerful mood – something only Boomer was usually in, and C.) Boomer was in a very stormy disposition – something only Butch was usually experiencing.

The atmosphere should have felt warm, toasty, and wholesome with talking from Lord Death and Boomer, occasionally Brick himself or rarely, Butch; instead, tonight's air was silent and almost unnoticed awkward.

Brick's fork jabbed at the peas – those damned, hated vegetable!- with a sudden burst of vigor as he became exasperated again.

Lord Death was mad. The whole trio had failed to complete their final mission of the day and had been scolded at until Lord Death was blue in the face.

It wasn't Brick's fault that someone prevented the completion of his job. It wasn't his fault that that certain someone had advised the victim he was preying on to avoid the dark alleyway where a murderer waited. It wasn't his fault she had seen his notorious face and stopped it.

"Brick, cease picking at your plate. Eat your peas." Lord Death commanded flatly.

"I will when I get to the accursed things." Brick grumbled, glaring fiercely at his meal.

"There's nothing left to eat except the peas." the parental figure huffed irritably.

"I still have parts of my meatloaf on my plate, do I not?" the redhead retorted.

"Don't start with me, young man! I wasn't the one who failed today, was I, Demise?" Death snapped. "I wasn't distracted because some weakness for a girl stopped me!"

"That is not what happened!" Brick growled through locked jaw and clenched teeth. "That's not what happened at all! She saw me through my cloak!"

Boomer sank down in his seat visibly as if the words were missiles gone astray or daggers being thrown and Butch continued to chew his food thoughtfully with interest.

Butch had never really seen Brick disobey their father as much as he himself did; this was a perfectly precious moment.

"I highly doubt that. Those cloaks are made from the finest kelpie hide and unicorn hair one can find!" Lord Death scoffed.

".. Is that where Lucky went..?" Boomer blurted. "You murdered my kelpie and transformed him into a cloak?!"

"No, you little twit. Lucky died from natural causes and old age." the former sighed. "He nearly killed you before you got his bridle on though."

"Dad, I didn't reveal myself! She spotted me in the darkest corner with my cloak on!" Brick snarled angrily. "It's not as if I wanted her to see me!"

"Brick does have a point, Dad. A girl saw me in the middle of trying to make a tree crash on a young mistress and stopped me." Butch piped up, finally deciding to do some good by defending his brother.

"Butch.." Lord Death huffed. "You told me that earlier and it makes no difference! I refuse to believe it!"

The two boys exchanged cross looks and rolled their eyes in unison.

It was no surprise to them that their father was as stubborn as a bull; where else would they get their adamant ways?

"Fine. You win the argument." Brick said sarcastically. "But, I still refuse to put those peas in anywhere in my body let alone on my fork."

Lord Death let out a loud, annoyed exhale and rose from the table, an pestered look in his eyes, as he rubbed his temples carefully with his claws.

Boomer quietly muttered an almost inaudible statement that sounded like "I-I'm just going to excuse myself and see if Merri has seen my unicorn-kelpie.." and left the room after pushing his chair in under the table.

Butch shrugged off the exiting statement instead of making a crude, immature, or vicious insult about it and after scarfing down Boomer's leftover mashed potatoes, left with a wave of goodbye to Brick.

Brick sighed and a thought of the saboteur from earlier crossed his mind. Unwillingly, he allowed himself to indulge in the memory of her, the way she had almost fallen on him.

She was shorter than he was, by a foot, give or take, with long, billowing hair that was reminiscent of embers burning against the velvety black of a bodiless night and eyes that were as soft and pink as the wild roses near the river in the woods.

That was the feature that intrigued Brick; her rose pink eyes against the pale peach of her fair skin.

Why it was not the way her hair danced through around her waist, the way she wore a prominent cherry red bow, or the way the ghostlike scent of cherry blossom and roses permeated her space sweetly?

Personally, Brick believed it to be because she had seen him through those queer eyes, those eyes that were not of the mortal world, even with a disguise, a concealment.

Never in all of his eleven centuries and five years had he ever encountered a mortal with eyes that weren't brown, cobalt blue, leaf green, or hazel.

How could such a goddess be just a mere human? Such beauty, wasted on a being that would perish under a century. How could beauty like hers have such a short span till expiration?

In his mind, Brick could see the way her hips swiveled as she dashed after her companion in the crowd on the cobblestone street, the way her wide eyes peered at his blood red eyes, the way her graceful gait outpaced his own walk, her lips like blooming flower petals as she inhaled a breath.

Shame washed out all thoughts of the girl. He was immortal, royalty, and on top of that, he was a killer.

How many people had been the result of his success? How many had actually made it to a doctor or infirmary and survived?

He couldn't even remember the name of her for his life! He could pine for her until the day someone ended his life and he wouldn't even be anywhere close to being right for her.

They were total opposites yet somehow, she managed to make him stray from his disciplined lifestyle.

All he did know was where she lived. The girl wasn't royalty or anything; she was a servant, a maid.

She lived with the family of a duke named Dexter, a family who was almost as old as Brick's kelpie who was at least three centuries old.

Brick winced as he thought of how this "Dexter" boy might be involved with the maiden servant. Even without fame or wealth, she was quite beautiful and was probably desired.

A plan formed in his head and Brick plotted as he gathered the dishes for Jackson to wash.

* * *

Blossom gently tugged the strings of her silver-colored corset, carefully pulling one string after the other in an attempt to adjust the garment to the correct fit, before she gingerly fingered the sleeping shift that Duke Dexter had given to her.

The nightgown was something she would never be able to afford with her only line of work being a maid to the family. The material was made of Chinese silk the color of cotton candy with mystical creatures embroidered on it, the largest and most elaborate a phoenix. The trim was a golden lace that supposedly was made of satin and actual gold.

Blossom traced the phoenix with a slender finger, feeling the swirls in the material, and she sighed. As elegantly crafted as it was, she couldn't bear to wear it. It was cold and a thing that seemed too perfect to drape around her petite frame.

Dexter was too generous with gifts like this; rich gifts that a maid could only dream of even touching. He had given her endless amounts of bejeweled ballgowns, large quantities of fanciful corsets and chemises, too many expensive decorative things to count.

As amazing as it seemed, Blossom couldn't ask enough for it to stop. Instead of all these extravagant dresses and knickknacks, she preferred books and instruments, parchment and inky quills. The simpler always seemed better.

Blossom tenderly picked the sleeping outfit up and folded it to tuck it into her drawer where she hid all of the presents the duke tried to give her.

The only time she actually wore them was when Dexter asked when she wore them and where they were.

The maid slid her one of her usual cotton nightgowns on and froze as she heard a quiet rapping noise at her window. No one ever visited and rapped on the window, which only made sense; the window was a story up from the ground.

Adjusting the gown, Blossom frowned as she discovered that it was much shorter than before; the gown ended at mid-thigh. The tapping became a little louder.

She scurried over cautiously and peered out the glass pane she had scrubbed earlier. Nothing was in the dark night air.

Warily, Blossom opened the window and poked her head outside. Not a single living thing wandered the dark, grassy yard. The wind caressed her skin too much like a human hand would and Blossom ducked back inside the mansion.

"I told you I knew exactly where you lived and where your room is." a voice laughed.

Blossom's whole body turned taut as she closed the window; she recognized that voice. It was a charmingly gorgeous, but at the same time, cold and frightening.

Blossom felt his eyes on her and she swallowed. She reluctantly turned to see an immortal seated on her dresser.

He looked as deadly and handsome as he did earlier, even without his knife and cloak. Blood-red eyes picked up every movement she made and his right leg was planted on the dresser while the left swung freely.

With only a hat and his long bangs covering his brows, he looked like a handsome street urchin who had hit gold.

"How did you get inside my room..?" Blossom demanded in a hushed tone.

"You opened the window; you allowed Demise the opportunity to slip in." the boy smirked.

"Lord Demise, I must apologize, but y-you can't be here." she said in a slightly anxious voice.

"It's 'Master', thank you very much, but, why can't I be here? Scared of what a terrifying immortal like me might decide to do to a tiny,weak maid like yourself?" he snickered.

"I-I'm not allowed to have male visitors in my room." she explained, ignoring his taunting.

"You're old enough to make decision on your own, aren't you? How old are you? What's you name?" he asked.

"I refuse to release information like that." she pouted.

"Why not, little one?" the immortal frowned.

"You know, ancient people believed your real name held a power over you and your age meant something." the maid pointed out.

"How about a deal then? You tell me your name, I promise to tell you my real name." he grinned.

Blossom tensed at his wide, seemingly genuine smile and Brick's eyes challenged hers. She swallowed nervously, her hands starting to shake weakly enough to be unnoticed by the reaper.

To say that the girl had little trust in him was a large understatement. She was completely dubious of every ulterior motive she could image.

"Have you decided yet?" Brick asked, his eyes luminous in the darkness.

"Do I even have a choice?" Blossom sighed defeatedly. "I'm only fifteen."

"And you know well enough, I only look sixteen, but am centuries older." he nodded. "What's your name though?"

Blossom stiffened numbly at the question she wanted to avoid most of all. She really didn't want to tell him such information, what if he decided to kill her, but she had no choice. With a stern thought, Blossom decided to stall.

"You have to guess." the maid smiled.

"Is this some sort of childish game?" Brick scoffed. "Give me a good reason not to obliterate you now and find your name out later."

"No one else would tell you; superstition is rampant around these parts and to speak the name of the dead is bad luck." she grinned superiorly.

"... Fine. Why not? The worst that could happen is you perish." he shrugged. "I don't think you're very intelligent to play games with me, girl."

Blossom's smug smile was wiped clear from her face and an angry scowl replaced it in a heartbeat. She crossed her arms and fingered the silver book-shaped locket around her throat.

"Are you implying that I'm dense?!" Blossom demanded sharply.

"Why, of course! You are a girl after all." Brick replied condescendingly. "Everything girls do, boys can do better."

"Is that so?" she huffed. "Then, I have a brilliant idea: get out of my room before something bad happens to you."

"What's going to happen? Are you going to cry?" he jeered.

The maid exhaled sharply and as the immortal laughed, gave a hard yank to the necklace. It came off silently and she smirked. Quickly, Blossom pretended to be sorrowful and as if Brick had really damaged her feelings.

"Yes! You're quite cantankerous and cruel, Master Demise." Blossom murmured, feeling her eyes well up with faux tears.

"Huh? You're really going to..?" Brick asked with a pause in his chortles.

"If you were going to be so cold.." Blossom began to cry. "Then, what was the point in even showing up here?"

Brick watched helplessly as the pink-eyed maiden's cheeks became wet with silvery pearl tears that streamed down her face. He felt uncomfortable and awkward. He had come here to talk, not to hurt a pathetic girl's feelings and have her sob.

Though Brick was decades older in battle and the likes, he was only years old when confronted with an emotional beings like Blossom.

He and his brothers never quite figured out how to deal with those damned emotions and were content to let their father put up with them.

Brick slid down off the drawer where he perched and hesitantly approached the maid, who had now turned her back to him.

A choked wail echoed from her throat and cautiously, the reaper wrapped an arm around her.

Blossom grew tense in the embrace before Brick turned her around and properly hugged her to his chest.

Shock filled her; he was too warm to be around and his skin felt hot like the tea Dexter told her to brew in the morning.

Brick was astounded as well; not only was he hugging her, but she wasn't crying as much. Her form was icy cold in his hold, but she felt.. Nice. Like eating frozen watermelon in the hot summer, she was a comfortable kind of cold.

"Are.. Are you okay now?" Brick asked meticulously as if his words could unravel the more peaceful air.

Blossom shook her head silently and Brick could barely hear her request. She was too fragile, too delicate, too much like a porcelain doll, for his liking.

"I couldn't hear you at all. Can you speak up?" the red-eyed boy inquired soothingly.

"C-can.. I-is it okay to hug you?" Blossom whispered. "Please?"

Brick's face turned a powdery shade of pink. That was what he thought she had requested the first time.

He was uncertain how to proceed; she was so little, he was barely touching her as it was because he was scared he would hurt her and she would break like glass.

If he did say yes, Brick was certain he would embarrass himself whether it be nuzzling a cheek against her soft skin or crying out in frustration the horrid thoughts of wanting to kiss her, of wanting her to be in the same domain as him.

He would frighten her or hurt her; he already made her cry.

Blossom was shaking against his form like a flower trembling in the windy days. It was a lie to say he wasn't scaring her. He was dangerous and a killer with powers she incredulously witnessed earlier.

She was but a human maid. Blossom had no chance if she was confronted with him on bad terms.

"Yes." Brick finally responded.

Warily, Blossom cupped the silver necklace in her hand with care and wrapped her arms around his neck. The immortal stiffened in her grip as she quickly and quietly clipped the jewelry around his throat.

"O-okay, o-okay! G-get off!" Brick commanded in a hissing voice.

Blossom withdrew her arms and shyly smiled sweetly. Brick squirmed. There was a horrible, painful sensation around his neck. His body started convulsing slightly and Brick sank to his knees.

"What's wrong?" Blossom asked. "Are you sick?"

"G-Goddamn.." Brick winced. "G-Get me a m-mirror!"

Blossom willingly obliged and grabbed a hand held mirror from her bedside. She passed the reflector to the injured boy and he stared into it.

Blossom cautiously scooted into her bathroom as Brick's feature became twisted with rage, most noticeably his eyes. His glare flashed to her and Blossom gasped with wide eyes.

"You sick, mangy bitch!" Brick growled. "You twisted, little bastard child! Y-You deceived me!"

"Please don't kill me." Blossom gulped.

"If you don't want to die," he roared. "Run."

Blossom felt her heavy, frozen limbs thaw and she locked the bathroom door. Mentally, she prayed the boy wouldn't really murder her and that her charge family wouldn't be involved. She was practically trapped.. Unless..

Blossom's eyes wandered to the window and she rashly scaled down the wall. Above her, Blossom heard Brick burst through the locked door and she bit her lip as his eyes scanned over where she hid.

Watching the angry boy, Blossom pressed her body against the stone building and edged away from the residence. He disappeared quickly in a flash of red. Her heart was racing as the maid bolted into the large, untamed yard that consisted mainly of wilderness.

A curse escaped the redhead's lips as memory told her she had forgotten that she was running barefoot in her pajamas.

Blossom pondered whether to pause and decided not to. It very well could cost the lady-in-waiting her life. She attempted to forget that there were nocturnal creatures and pits as she walked on.

Brick snarled as he vainly clawed at the painful, mortal silver necklace around his neck.

For just a maid, that girl was damn intellectual; he had forgotten that silver from mortals burned. She was lucky his head wasn't clear enough for him to be skilled.

A wistful sigh resonated in the air as Master Demise longed for his cloak of invisibility.

The pink-eyed maid might be able to see through it, but regardless, the immortal would feel more... Lethal, even confident. The wrap usually bought him a few extra moments.

The only regret he truly did have was knowing he had to kill the maid. She was different than the other humans, he could tell, but, the girl would have to die. True, he probably shouldn't have made her resent him. But, she betray his trust.

As quickly as his leather boots would allow him, Brick scurried up the tallest tree he could find in a short span of time and on the branch with the most coverage, he perched in wait.

The only thing that might give his position away was the way Brick's red eyes peeked out from between dark leaves. This didn't worry the boy though. The maid would be in such a rush, she would most likely just run into the woods.

Sure enough, the girl was heading the direction of the forest. Master Demise smirked his cold, deadly smile and his emotions had vanished in an instant. The only emotion he felt was determination and that was for his success.

Quickly approaching, the petite ginger looked behind her and around. Her eyes locked onto something ahead of her. Brick cursed as she backtracked as fast as her bare feet allowed. She saw Brick's eyes glinting murderously and hers widened.

Her blazing red hair swishing in the night air, Brick pounced as she got only a few feet away. Under his muscular form, Blossom quivered in terror. In all honesty, the girl didn't want to die; she hadn't accomplished many of her goal or had a family or anything she could be extremely proud of.

"You honestly tried to run. How much of an idiot are you?" Brick demanded. "I am faster than you and centuries wiser, not to mention stronger. You're just a moronic maid. Are you ready to die now?"

"No." Blossom replied breathlessly. "I don't want to die.."

"You're not smart enough to get out of this situation, are you, girl?" he smirked.

"I have a name." she said. 'Ironic that this started because I did not want to give him my name...'

"Do you really? You're going to die and you could have prevented it by telling me your name from the start." he sneered. "But, for curiosity's sake, what is it?"

"My name is Blossom. Blossom Ashlie Utonium." the fifteen year old fessed, her eyes looking into his.

Brick felt his willpower, the desire to kill, diminish slightly. Blossom: her name was Blossom. Somehow, the name had a certain power over him. It made his knees weaker, his mind foggy, and his heart ache.

Blossom lied to him now too. The name didn't affect her, but did him. He wasn't sure what to make of this quandary. Her name.. Suited her for some reason. Her eyes were the same color as cherry blossoms or roses blossoming.

"It might not matter now, but, I'm Brick." the boy announced. "Brick Arias Jojo."

"If you'd be so kind, I'm ready to die now. I can barely breathe." Blossom admitted softly.

Brick swallowed as his stomach turned acidic and bubbly. He thought for sure that he would be able to slay her, to kill her no matter what. His throat closed up on him and Brick felt the heavy burn of the silver.

"How about a little, benign bargain, Blossom? You take this fucking silver necklace off and I'll spare you." Brick offered. "I obviously don't enjoy wearing this type of silver and you obviously don't welcome the idea of dying."

"No." Blossom refuted. "I don't want to take the necklace off."

"So, you want to die then? That's fine by me, little one. I can just take the locket off myself." he grumbled.

"Then, why haven't you?" she asked.

Brick frowned. He hadn't honestly thought she'd ask. He assumed that she'd panic and beg him for acceptance of the deal. Brick knew damn well if he attempted to take the metal off, he would burn himself or it would become stuck.

Only the one who put it on could take it off.

"Because.. I thought you would like a chance." Brick lied. "Last chance, ember. Now or never."

Blossom paused and slowly wrapped her arms around Brick's neck. Brick felt her fingers dance on the lock and a tiny click echoed in his ears as she cupped the jewelry in her hands.

Brick impulsively caught Blossom's hands in his and Blossom's eyes looked away from him as he started to kneel over her.

He brushed back her long hair and hastily planted a kiss on both corners of her mouth. Brick quickly came up with an excuse as his cheeks burned.

"There. Now, our deal's been sealed. You have to reciprocate the seal and you can't tell a soul." Brick murmured.

"I don't want to kiss you." Blossom stated stubbornly.

"You have to, or else I'll come back here every single night until you seal the bargain." he threatened.

Blossom heaved an almost silent sigh and methodically shaped her lips to match Brick's. She drew close enough that he could smell the mint on her breath and his excitement caused his patience to wear thin.

Brick pressed his lips against hers and Blossom felt as if he was branding her as his possession. A feeling of warmth and coolness passed through both until Brick forced himself away with a dizzy mind.

Embarrassment and shame poured through his being and Brick fled into the night without a word. He ran so fast, he didn't even realize that he was clenching Blossom's necklace in his hand.


	4. Chapter 4

Kiss Me, Kill Me... RRB X PPG.. By Dark Angel 91398..

A/N: Hey, people! I'm back and yes, I am alive!~ I'll be trying to update every one of my stories for a while, but it might take away with writer's block for some and the fact my fourth laptop broke. My apologizes! Enjoy, nevertheless, and remember to click that review button! I'm too scared, I think it might bite me.. XD

Chapter Four: A Kelpie and a Promise

"I'll be right back.. I just need to check on Winny." Bubbles explained softly to the large man behind the desk.

Micheal Mitchelson scrutinized the young maid with a skeptical kind of glint in his eyes and the small blonde suppressed a small shudder. The red-faced man was the true master of the house and it was dolefully the reason she was talking to him or else she would have asked the duke's son, Mitch, for a small break.

"Is that all?" Micheal asked as his beefy hand absentmindedly patted his balding head. "No sneaking kisses behind the barn? No troublesome young lad with wandering eyes and matching hands?"

"No, sir. Not all." Bubbles shook her head, a fierce blush on her young face. "I-Isn't it a little early to be thinking about this?"

"You're fifteen years old, soon be sixteen in half a month's time. You tell me." he retorted with chuckle.

Bubbles ignored the man's insulting response with an air of carelessness. She would never find a partner, not with her eyes that all the people in the village called bewitched because they were different than a normal shade of blue.

Though the thoughts of marriage and family were unlikely, she still hoped that some day she would find the right man and she'd never have to be a maid again.

"Anyway, you may go care for your horse.. As long as you remember to feed the other livestock as well." the man finally said with a sobering sigh.

The girl nodded her head quietly and gathered up her long cloak gingerly with her fingers' knuckles white as if holding back emotions ungraceful before curtsying and exiting the room. Michael wondered what went through the maid's mind before remembering the important deals he had to settle on for the next day.

The outside world was white with new frost and delicate icicles hanging from every limbs on every tree. The snow had fallen during the night at some point and was unmarked. Unsurprisingly, the sky was the same color as the earth and yet not at all the same.

Bubbles paid none of this any mind as her long dress and cloak brushed the dusting of ivory from the ground and melted to water against the places where her skin was bare. Her mind was elsewhere, not here in the place she had been born and raised.

Her thoughts were far, far away with the past; that boy seemed so familiar, but somehow, he came off to her as a total stranger. Where? Where had they met before? Had it been in a past life of some sort? Or, maybe, she had seen him when he was a child?

The idea was so absurd that Bubbles had left it abandoned like a fallen flower petal and she pondered the notions that raced though her mind. He might have been a slightly dangerous one, that much she realized, and she felt absolutely comfortable in his presence.

But, Mike Believe wasn't truly as dangerous as everyone thought. It wasn't his fault that he had a few problems and that his name was like a black cat in the middle of a midnight path; he was just so susceptible to things considered paranormal.

Bubbles bit her lip and her sky blue eyes, the eyes the town elder called "them witch eyes", passed over the surroundings of ice as she heard the cries and calls of the barn animals in distress. Her eyes widened and her pace quickened with a beating heart.

The problems of poor Mike and his arrest were brushed aside roughly; what was going on involving those poor, defenseless animals was more important than her new friend.

Dramatic and tragic scenarios played in her head like a movie, mainly consisting of Mitch torturing the creatures like he had in the past, and the imaginary injustice propelled her forward to slam the red doors open and examine the area.

"Please calm down. I-I'm not going to hurt you.." a soft voice pleaded from somewhere in the dark shadows of the kennels.

The anger and courage she previously felt faded into a meek worry and fear. The voice was not one she recognized and sounded accented. Almost everyone from Townsville had that fast, slick kind of speech or at least from what visitors said, they did except Bubbles and her sister and few others, but even they had a speech pattern similar.

This voice had a slower, soft tone with an almost detectable pang of insecurity echoing through it. All Bubbles knew was that the speaker was male and possibly close to her age. In a way, that fact terrified her. Most boys in town that didn't work for someone were the type of people to murder and rob.

"Shhh.. Shhh.. It's okay.. I'm a good person, see? I can be nice just like you.. You probably want the carrot, don't you, sweetie?"

The neighing made Bubbles mobile again. Winny, her sweet mare that she had owned for three years and loved unconditionally, was neighing. Bubbles had to run towards her precious pet, her lovable horse.

What if those words, the words the voice uttered, were just a lure to get Winny close so she could be stolen and taken away forever? What if those enticing words were a trap to make Winny trust him and be the reason Bubbles' pet died?

Bubbles slowed down at the corner of Winny's stall and the stallion named Windy's, cautiously peeking in with an exasperating pace. The white mare pawed at the ground and let out a happy sounding neigh at the sight of her owner; what horse could hate someone so loving?

All the blonde maid saw was the cloaked back of the intruder and the boy's fluffy mane of blond that seemed to be made of pure gold. Her heart stopped as he turned to see her and Bubbles yanked herself back against Windy's stall before he could notice her.

"Shh.. Be a good girl, okay? Just for a little while.. You want some sugar, huh, sweetie pie?" the boy laughed. "Don't be greedy. No one is going to take that away, yes, ma'am."

Bubbles swallowed back her concern and a cold mist of snow seemed to blow down her spine as she gingerly attempted to approach the stall again. Her belly, now feeling ravenous since the early morning apple she had snuck, filled with butterflies the size of her hands.

Before she could even reconsider the idea, the timid girl scooped up a large pitchfork and with a horrifying scenario of her oh-so-sweet Winny dead, rushed forward with it in her hands.

Winny reared up in either surprise or glee, which Bubbles didn't know, and the invading boy spun moments too late. Bubbles squeezed her blue eyes closed as she heard his shocked gasp with his back hitting the wall and his head following.

She was scared, terrified, now that her mind was done with its fearful thoughts and the calm settled in for moments. Oh, what if, by some chance, the prongs of the farming tool had gone through him? Oh, what in the world was she thinking?

Meticulously, the maid opened her eyes and found herself staring at the Immortal from before when she had protected Windy. His dark eyes, rather much like the ocean, bore holes in hers and she was afraid all over again. He wasn't injured at all; she started ruefully wishing he had been in terror.

"M-Master D-Doom.." the girl squeaked, her bottom lip trembling. "Boomer.."

His dark eyes continued to stare into her light ones and he blinked as if studying her. His body rested between the second and third prongs, his cloak now muddied.

"You..." his husky voice rasped. "Tried to stab me."

Dumbly, the girl nodded; she knew better than to lie. Her father and her sister, Blossom, always told Bubbles to tell the truth.

"Y-yes.. I-I thought you were going to hurt W-Winny." she confessed, her cheeks turning red.

"Winny's your kelpie?" he frowned. "How did a person of your being, and a girl no less, come across such a powerful beast like a kelpie?"

"A kelpie..?" Bubbles repeated numbly. "What's a kelpie?"

Boomer wriggled his way out of the pitchfork's hole and the maid allowed gravity to steal the tool from her possession to rest it on the cold, unforgiving floor.

The reaper ignored the maid's question and instead, approached Winny with a quizzical look on his almost childish looking face as if he were looking at some sort of codes that had been untouched for many centuries.

Bubbles shuddered. She had absolutely no idea what Master Doom was thinking or plotting, no clue to what expressions lay under his mask of puzzlement. She could only watch as he and Winny observed one another with dark eyes.

Boomer, of course, had expected the blonde to not know what a kelpie was; knowledge of mystical and whimsical creatures had been washed clean of the village for the longest time. The only remains of the supposed fantasy creatures there were only items that merchants sold from other regions.

His blue eyes studied the animal with the rigid training of a hawk, always alert and staring. Gently, he cupped his fingers under Winny's head and his left hand trailed down her mane to the base of her neck.

Winny pounded the ground as if taunting the boy and Boomer applied an excess amount of pressure to the neck of the beast as he lifted her head up to the ceiling with a thunderous crack. The horse whinnied loudly and fell to its knees.

Bubbles screamed as if she was the victim and her fears vanished as she dashed towards the pair. Boomer's left hand lifted off of the former Winny's neck and Bubbles couldn't help herself as she smacked him as hard as she could across the face.

"Why did you do that?" Bubbles demanded, tears running down her face like a stream.

"Bubbles, calm down." the Immortal commanded, rubbing the red spot on his cheek. "Nothing's wrong-."

"Stop lying to me!" she shrieked.

"You're making a fool of yourself." he sighed.

"You killed my horse!" she screeched as she reeled her arm back to slap him.

Boomer grabbed the maid's arm and her wide eyes stared at him. His heart ached at the way she was looking at him, like he was a monster and a fiend. She was too pretty to cry especially over what he just did.

"Shh.. Just.. Listen for a moment, okay? First of all, Winny is not dead. I just broke her concealment." Misfortune explained.

"T-Then, why is she acting like that?" the maid sniffled.

"She'll get up in a minute. She has to readjust to having her normal abilities." he said. "Just watch."

Bubbles forced herself to look over at the deathly animal and her eyes trailed to something Boomer gestured to. White splotches of light seemed to float around in the barn air around Winny and the fur of the white mare darkened to a coal black.

Slowly but steadily, the horse's skin turned black and Bubbles stifled a whimper as the mane became a tangled, knotted mess of a slimy seaweed, hair, and what appeared to be bleached white bone.

Boomer felt the human grip his hand as if seeking comfort and his face turned red. It felt like the first time he had met her all over again, but different. He figured the transformation from mortal steed to a beast more like a nightmare would scare him as well if he wasn't so used to it.

The former Winny's eyes burned like coal, the chocolate color swirling into a flaming red, and Bubbles buried herself in Boomer's cloak.

Boomer trembled at the contact and swallowed nervously; his dad made it very clear not to go near her and yet he was letting her hold him. He had attempted to come off to her as a sweet but strong guy, a kind of mix of his brothers' qualities that he yearned for and his own, but she made him so nervous and shy that he had screwed up and had come off as a person with no heart.

"This is a kelpie." the Immortal said as his fingers left the chin of the beast.

"W-Will it.. I-It's still Winny, r-right?" the maid asked with large eyes.

"Of course. It's still the Winny you know, but.. in her real form." he replied.

Winny's blazing eyes passed over Boomer with contempt and scorn before she brought herself to look at her mistress. Bubbles made herself smile at the equestrian beast and her shaking hand lifted to the nose of the beast.

Boomer watched in fascination as the blonde stroked the former horse boldly and she lovingly hugged the creature before passing Winny a carrot. He remembered how difficult it had been for him to even go near a kelpie and this mortal shocked him with her easiness around Winny.

"Bubbles!" a craggy voice called from on the opposite wing of the barn. "Da boss man lookin' for ya! 'E said ya better hurry up!"

"Kuger, tell Mr. Mitchelson I'll be there in a minute!" Bubbles shouted back.

The blonde looked at Winny fearfully and stared at Boomer with her oh-so-beautiful eyes concerned. The duo exited Winny's stall and Bubbles moaned in worry.

"H-How can we hide a kelpie?" the girl inquired. "We can't have a mystical horse trotting around!"

"... I-I.. I can take her." the boy replied hesitantly as the kelpie glowered at him with flared nostrils.

"You'd do that for me?" she asked. "Thank you so much, Master Doom!"

"I-I'm, uh.. Please call me Boomer.." he stammered as she flung her arms around him, burying her face in his chest happily.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she smiled, not noticing his tomato red face or the way he tensed up. "How can I ever repay you?"

Boomer opened his mouth to speak, closed it with an agonizing anxiousness, and swallowed. He hadn't a chance to reply however. The moment his vocal cords decided to work, an angry bang resonated through the stables and the animals cried out in shock.

"Aha! So, there is a boy involved!" a triumphant voice declared.

Bubbles' sky blue eyes widened and she yanked herself away from her savior in horror. Michael Mitchelson leered at her with a rather nasty smirk, the bullwhip in his hands dragging across the floor.

"And what's your name, boy? Who do you work for?" Michael demanded as he gripped Boomer's shoulder to spin him around.

Boomer smirked to himself and remained silent as he listened to the fat man's questioning and angry insults. He heard the whip crack through the air and it whistled past his ear by a mere cat's tail distance.

"I asked you who you worked for! Now, answer me, you bastard of a child, or so help me, I will castrate you right in front of your little lover girl! Better yet, maybe I'll whip her first-!" the man bellowed.

The whip sailed through the air and the boy heard it. The sound of Bubbles' yelp, the noise the weapon made when it made rough contact with skin. It was flicked again and Boomer's eyes narrowed.

With a sudden twist, the Immortal reached out and snatched the end of the dangerous man's toy. Michael blinked in horror; it should have hurt it and he shouldn't have caught it, but had his hand red.

The man's shock paralyzed him and with a yank, the whip was confiscated from the man. Boomer's eyes were shaded a dark navy blue, almost a black, and he finally answered the question.

"I work for my father, Lord Death. I am Master Doom." Boomer grinned with a feral look in his eyes.

The whip swished in his hands, toying with the air, and Michael's eyes widened as he saw the hidden rage underneath the blue eyes of the boy.

"But, that's not important right now, is it, Michael? What's important is the fact you whipped the girl under my protection. Did you know that?"

The man shook his head. Bubbles shivered despite the pain that jolted every nerve in her body. She remembered how angry Boomer had gotten before; she could honestly say that she never wanted to be the person to provoke him again.

"I'm only going to say this once, so listen to what I'm saying: Never, ever on your life, touch her again. If you do and I find out, let heaven have mercy on your guilty, sinful soul! I swear on my life, I will break every bone in your body and feed you to your own hogs! Do you comprehend that?"

"Y-yes, sir, Master Doom." Michael swallowed nervously.

Boomer turned to the maid and his expression softened visibly, eyes lightening, as he gingerly approached her. His eyes seemed more mournful than enraged; he regretted trying to be someone he wasn't and having someone be the martyr because of it.

He was afraid to touch her, afraid to even be in the same area as her, because everything he did just brought ill will and devastation to the people around him and Bubbles was always the one getting hurt. That was how he got his title after all, his father christening him with the title and the name becoming reality.

Those mournful eyes noted every detail of Bubbles and Master Doom winced when he saw how the whip had bitten her skin from her right shoulder to beneath her collar bone, had torn right throw her clothes.

The Immortal stopped an arm's reach away and refused to come any closer when he saw the dots of blood on her skin.

He was scared all over again, afraid that of the primal and baser instincts in him and oddly enough, that she would regard him as a monster and cry again.

He watched to see if the blonde would flinch when he approached like in the past and his heart ached when he finally brushed a fingertip against the wound.

Bubbles let out a small hiss of pain at the touch and Boomer wished his cold fingers could magically take away her pain. But, they could not and never would; his hands were permanently dyed red, that dreadful and invisible red dye that resisted every and any thing that could make it disappear for a while.

"I'm okay. Really, I'm fine." the blonde girl murmured. "Really."

"It's bleeding and it looks bright red." Boomer replied.

"But, it's fine. I-I'm kind of used to it." she insisted. "It's happened before."

His eyes flashed from the wound, hoping it wouldn't scar a white color against her lovely peach skin, and to her pale face that made her sky eyes look ghostly. Boomer could tell she had been hit before, maybe harder, and it made his stomach turn.

Boomer shot a glare to Michael Mitchelson who was frozen to the spot and his ocean eyes were stormy. He honestly didn't see how anyone could hit a girl with such a fighting weapon, but to hit Bubbles was something that made his mind a slate of pure white.

"You're lucky I don't go after you with that tantalizing little play thing of yours." Boomer growled with a pang of unearthly fury. "Apologize. Now. Beg for her forgiveness or else I swear I'll sew that fat mouth of yours shut with your own hands."

"Bubbles.. I'm terribly sorry for my actions.. Forgive me, please." Michael pleaded as he looked the maid.

"I-It's okay.. I-I'll be fine by tomorrow." the blonde smiled.

Boomer's mouth turned down at the corners bitterly as if the scene made his mouth fill with something sour and foul. He continued to stare at the fat man with venom in his eyes and Michael started his way out of the red barn.

"Oh, and.. Bubbles? I'm afraid your services aren't needed anymore. Find your work elsewhere." Micheal Mitchelson stated smugly as his hand touched the door handle.

Bubbles' eyes widened and her bottom lips quivered as the news became something understandable in her mind. Boomer snarled and the whip in his hands was flung towards the man. Micheal scurried out and instead of hitting the initial victim, the door was struck shut.

With a defeated sigh, the Immortal turned his back on the offending weapon and gently wiped away the girl's tears. It was his fault that the mortal had lost her job and he felt the regular echoing floods of guilt pass over him.

"O-oh.. N-Now what?" Bubbles whimpered with her eyes looking like a calf's.

"I'll get you a job. I promise. Swear on my life, I will." the Immortal vowed.

The maid looked at him dubiously, the doubts spoken not aloud but with her eyes. He didn't understand it; she was now jobless and had no roof over her head nor a bed to sleep in. He would never understand it because he was Lord Death's son, a member of the notorious Death Trio.

He hadn't been born in a small hut in the village and seen one of his sibling die. He had never had to watch his father mourn the death of a mother he could never remember no matter how hard he wanted to. He had never been hassled by the uptown children or been forced to go out with one and almost get beaten for being scared of his "date".

No, Boomer never would have to, never had to in the past, because he was one of the rich children who always got new things and never longed for something as simple as a new cloak and always had their parents sort out any messes that developed, most of the time solved with money.

As bitter and upset as she felt, Bubbles didn't voice it even as that privileged boy wrapped her in his arms and try to comfort her. She simply remained silent and clung to him with hopes as low as the diminishing tide, trying to stay positive.

"You can always work at my house." the guilty teen pointed out.

Boomer felt the blonde's muscles grow taut with the words and bit his lip.

"No." Bubbles said, trembling. "No."

"Why not? W-We'd be able to see each other and-." he started.

"I-I'm sorry, Boomer, but, I-I can't." she interrupted.

Bubbles started to squirm in the embrace she had been trapped in and Boomer felt his heart drop at the rejection.

Was it because it was him? Or because who lived in his household other than him? He wasn't quite sure, but his stomach rumbled with the butterflies in it beating their enormous wings furiously.

"Why not?" Boomer asked. "Why can't you work somewhere near me?"

Bubbles wriggled about and his grip on her tightened desperately. Deliriously, the mad thought of abducting her filled his mind and he hated himself for letting his insane uncivilized thoughts invading his brain.

"I-I can't." the maid repeated.

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't terrified, she was ready to sob with the fear clouding her sunshine state of mind, but, she could never dream let alone reveal aloud the horror she felt at the suggestion.

He was a nice enough person, when he wasn't enraged at least, but she would never work or live in the same house as him without it being involuntarily.

Live in the same house as Death, Demise, Disaster, and Doom? The idea was so delightfully absurd, madly wild, that she would have laughed had she been a bolder spirit.

"Please consider it at least." the boy sighed miserably. "You've kind of run out of options and with cold nights like this, you're more likely to freeze before you find work or any shelter."

"Thank you, but, I've got to get going before he comes back and throws his hounds on me or something horrid like that." the girl replied, shaking and trying to escape the hold.

"Say you'll work for me." he begged. "Bubbles, we might have just met, but I-I'd prefer knowing who you're working for and where. I-I.."

Master Doom swallowed, his throat suddenly parched and unnaturally stubborn, and he forced himself to continue, to admit that he was infatuated with her and every little thing she did despite their unexpected meeting, that he wished for her to love him like he knew he did her.

"I-I'm awfully fond of you.." Master Doom confessed, watering down the truth to the point of it being a pretense.

"I-I can't. Really. I have my sisters to worry about and my father, he's been sick recently." Bubbles rambled. "I-I don't think your own father would appreciate a random girl working in his house without his knowledge or anything."

"You have a point.." he admitted. "I'll ask him tonight and I'll tell you the results the next time we meet. I swear on my life. Pinky promise!"

Bubbles felt the feeling of crushing despair fill her at the boy's word and at the way he looked at her when he drew back from the embrace to give her his smallest finger.

Ruefully, the villager wrapped her own pinky around his and Boomer's face lit up like a star in the sky. She felt like a star crashing to earth.

And as if foreshadowing tragedy, Winny the kelpie's haunting neigh filled the air and the mortal animals shrieked.


	5. Chapter 5

Kiss Me, Kill Me... RRB X PPG.. By Dark Angel 91398..

Chapter Five

Butch inwardly cringed at the silence that dinner had brought on yet again, that abnormal quiet that seemed to be unwelcome and daunting.

The boys had done their work and twice as much as more as punishment for last time's unfortunate event. There had been no screaming or scolding and there had been no declarations of disappointment or anyone rebelling.

And yet, the silence had returned. No one opened their mouths to speak.

Not as if there was anything to talk about anyway. The only thing on Butch's mind lately was that maid who had rescued her mistress from his clutches and whether he would dare visit her tomorrow night. The moon would finally be full and plump and Buttercup would make up her mind about the promise.

Or he hoped. He was nearly trembling with anticipation. Only one more night, only one more day.. He prayed he would be able to sleep tonight and looked around.

Lord Death's eyes trailed down the table to his unusual peaceful sons who hadn't said even half a word the whole meal. Brick was glaring at his worst enemy (those goddamned peas would never die, would they?). Butch was stabbing his food, not eating it and not letting it rest. Boomer..

Lord Death stared at the blond, studying him. The boy was biting his lip and his ocean blue eyes flickered from his brothers to his father figure. To the man, it looked like his son had something to say but was too conflicted to speak.

"So," Lord Death smiled. "What's on everyone's minds tonight? Boomer, how about you? What are you thinking about?"

Boomer blinked nervously and he set his fork down. He shifted awkwardly at the attention.

"Well, I-I've been thinking.." Boomer sighed.

"About what? Come on now. Don't be shy; we're all family here." the elvish man coaxed.

".. I think we need another maid." the blond said uncertainly.

"Why do you think that?" Lord Death demanded. "We have Jackson and Killian in the house, Merri and her brother in the stables, Noah does the chauffeuring, Oswald does the errands, Patti and Queen work the gardens.."

"Not for the family.." Boomer fessed. "I-I was thinking about getting my own personal maid. Like someone to polish my weapon and take care of my room."

"Wait a minute!" Butch intervened with a festering glower. "How is it any fair if he gets a maid and I don't?"

"And how would it be fair if Butch and Boomer got their own servants and I didn't?" Brick demanded.

Butch glared at Lord Death with his forest green eyes becoming more catlike and his brows furrowed, bunching together.

Lord Death merely glanced at Butch and coolly took a sip of his dark red wine as if disregarding the manners of the boy and the problem at hand. His claw waved as if swatting a fly in the air.

"Boys, calm down. I never agreed or quarreled about the subject, did I?" the red-skinned man laughed with the humor of one listening to a good joke.

"No.." the redhead and the brunette grumbled.

"I'm curious though. Why a maid? Why not a butler or a manservant?" Lord Death grinned. "It wouldn't involve those three little scoundrels who ruined your work, would it? Weren't they maids?"

Butch swallowed anxiously as his father's eyes danced around the room and he prayed his face wouldn't reveal a thing. He had been thinking of Buttercup when he had shouted the injustice and unfairness of only one of the sons getting a maid.

"Maids are more useful in their own way." Brick pointed out.

"Yes, and they also have their disadvantages." Lord Death chuckled.

"I haven't seen a maid run into the house with muddy shoes." Boomer piped up. "Jackson, Killian, and Oswald always come in and leave the floor dirty."

"I've never once seen a maid come into the house carrying a heavy crate of fruit either." the man retorted. "Patti and Queen tried that once and dropped the whole thing the moment it was set in their arms."

"Maids don't nearly burn the house down when they cook meals." Butch smirked.

"Butlers don't break things in an attempt to fix them." the lord smiled widely.

"Maids don't come in with woman all the time." the redhead said.

"But, manservants don't come in pregnant or with suspicious bruises on the throats half the time."

Butch nearly choked on the piece of corn he was swallowing at the words and he gasped for air. Brick had spit his drink out and had sputtered. Boomer's face turned bright red and he fell back on the floor with his chair under him.

The boys stared at their father who grinned and sipped at his wine with the boastful yet calm atmosphere of a man who had bested the world's finest thinkers on the same day he had become rich but had remained humble.

Butch finally managed to get the corn down his windpipe without an adversity and his face was the same shade of red as his brother's eyes as he even thought about Buttercup the way she was now. It felt wrong thinking about a girl after what their father had implied and he shivered.

"What? I thought we were having a fun, family banter. Was what I said too much?" Lord Death pondered in faux obliviousness. "I thought it was rather nice having everyone so talkative at dinner for once!"

Butch tried to block out what had just been said and found himself trying to imagine a pregnant Buttercup without any results. Why was he so curious about what she would act and look like? He didn't know, but in any case, he really didn't want to. He ignored his terrible mind and focused on his blunt father.

"N-Not.. F-Funny." Butch stammered. "I nearly died."

"Silly little Butch-y rabbit, you can't die; I'm your father, Death." the man chortled.

"At least, maids don't have dirty minds.." Boomer mumbled as he righted himself and his seat.

"Well then! I see my dark humor isn't appreciated here!" the former snorted. "But, touche; most maids don't. Most. But, I find this rather much like the time you three wanted a dog."

Butch suppressed a groan at the memory of the dog incident. Their father never got them that dog and instead, Lord Death had gotten a parakeet that Butch himself killed by accident. In his defense, his father never warned him not to drop the cage down the attic stairs and he remembered wondering why the bird hadn't flown.

It hadn't mattered anyway since Lord Death had scared the thing half to death and it remained frozen to its perch. What Butch couldn't understand was how this was remotely related to the dog incident.

"I'm just worried you three will find yourselves in trouble." Lord Death continued.

"With what? It's not as if we're sticking the maids in a cage and having Butch carry it down the attic stairs!" Brick scoffed.

Butch glowered at his brother and Brick smiled back with that hateful smile that Butch loathed, that half smile, half smirk that was full of smugness.

"Of course not! We don't want three dead songbirds on our hands. I'm concerned with your.. control." the full-blooded Immortal sighed, swirling his wine.

"Control?" Butch frowned. "Why? We're fine; you're not going to find them hanging from the balcony by their hair or find them locked in a closet for a week."

Lord Death snickered at his sons' innocent minds. Oh, the pity that they were coming to that age where they wouldn't even assume that trouble or losing control meant child's play and pranks.

Butch stared at his father and he exchanged looks with his brothers. The boy hadn't heard Lord Death laugh so maliciously, it unnerved him.

"Not what I meant at all." Lord Death said soberly. "How have you three been doing emotionally and all?"

Butch frowned; what was this, a test? He knew he and his brothers could be immature at times, but honestly, the brunette was aware of their maturity and lack of it.

"What do you mean?" Brick asked seriously.

"Have you three been able to keep your emotions in check? No bursts of anger or random spiels of laughter or floods of tears? Anything that can be linked to emotions: do you have the ability to control them?" the man sighed.

Master Disaster mentally winced again. The day he met Buttercup, Butch had lost his temper and nearly killed her. If she hadn't slapped him, he wasn't sure what would have happened, but he was sure it wouldn't have been pretty.

"Butch, you answer first. Your temper is a lot shorter than your brothers. Have you had any emotional outbursts?" Lord Death demanded.

The green-eyed teen was tempted to tell the truth, but that look in his father's eyes stopped him. The look of someone have a premonition and having had gambled on it with the idea of it being completely correct. That look that Butch had hated from the very start of time and always will until the end of it.

"No. None at all." the brunette grinned.

"Well, that's always a good thing. Everyone knows that you hold grudges without even meaning to." the black-haired man replied nonchalantly. "Brick, Boomer, what about you two?"

"No, sir." Boomer said, shaking his head obediently.

"Don't bother asking. It's the same response all around." Brick snorted.

"As long as this behavior continues, perhaps we will get you your own maids." Lord Death mused aloud. "..All right. Choose whom ever you please, but make sure she can actually be of use. The last thing we need in this house is a slacker."

Though they didn't show it, the boys were elated with the thought of having that girl who had seen though his cloak around. Butch's eyes sparkled mischievously as he lowered his eyes to the food on his plate.

Buttercup would be working here, or at least, could be. She was going to give her his answer and he would state the terms which, of course, would require her to live at Death manor with him. The notion excited him beyond belief to the point where he could just kiss his father.

Naturally, that would never happen, but Butch was that euphoric that it did become slightly possible.

Lord Death smiled to himself as he left the table silently, noticing the atmosphere's change from tense and awkward to a decidedly cheerful and eager one.

It wasn't wrong that he knew the boys were lying to him, was it? Or that he knew that they had been playing with the girls who had seen through their cloaks?

That black smile widened as the man trailed down the hallway, the shadows pressing against his form.

Those silly boys.. Just like their father, thinking that he, Lord Death, would never find out, would never dare dream of their intentional deceit.. But, then again, it was in their blood.

Lord Death knew all about Boomer's hopeless crush on the timid, now jobless maiden, Bubbles, and how Boomer wanted to be her hero despite his upbringing.

He knew that Brick, the leader of the trio who was supposed to be their role model and good example, had snuck out in the middle of the night when he should have been sleeping and kissed the intelligent maid, Blossom. He also knew that Brick still had her silver necklace.

And the almighty lord was all too aware of Butch's little friend, the tomboy, Buttercup's control over Butch's emotion state and over his well-being and that Butch was all too intent to make his newest obsession join the household.

But, the boys certainly did not know. No, they were too wrapped up in their own worlds, too preoccupied in their new objects of affection, to even notice one another's.

Oh, but, their poor hearts wouldn't be able to handle the truth when and if they ever discovered that their new playmates didn't hold the same feelings for them. The girls were wary of the boys and maybe even afraid of them.

Lord Death didn't know much about the girls though he wished to. He wasn't sure why, but he did not trust them. They were odd girls with queer eyes and somehow, that rang an alarm in Lord Death's head that refused to quit.

Something was familiar about them and he disliked it entirely too much to even allow the girls to even speak to the boys. They were oh-so-familiar and it irritated him..

Lord Death sighed as he entered his stuffy study and pulled the velvet covering off of the priceless possession on his desk. The round, spherical shaped curved his reflection and he seemed taller than usual. His claw caressed the dome of the crystal ball delicately and the base, made of silver and amethyst, glowed.

The foggy clouds swirled in the ball and Lord Death watched as it revealed the girls he did not trust and a tall, shadowy figure that rested its hands on the ginger and the brunette's shoulders with the blonde in the middle. The girls' eyes were a brighter color, but the shadow was still dark.

Lord Death cursed and noticed the crystal globe was sending another image floating up. His eyes stared down at it attentively and his lips pulled back into a cold sneer of disdain.

He covered the globe angrily and he rammed a claw into the top of his desk as the other plucked at his hair. That ball must be broken, had to be! That damned ball that Mistress Falsehood, a colleague of Master Deception's, had given him must be broken!

"Mi Lord, there are some visitors here to see you." a nasally voice reported from outside the door.

"Very well, Killian. Send them in promptly." Lord Death sighed tiredly with an unseen wave of a claw as gesture.

The door opened and Lord Death watched as Lady Greed and the leader of the Sloth group walked in. Killian, a fraying man with a prominent bald spot, bowed and Lord Death nodded his head blankly to send the butler away.

"Hello, Lady Greed. Lord Sloth. What could possibly bring you here?" Lord Death smiled warmly.

"I demand to know what has been going on with the boys!" Lady Greed screeched angrily, pursing her lips angrily.

For a girl as old as the Death Trio, Lady Greed could be quite bossy and demanding. Her amber-brown eyes were narrowed as she stared at the man, her thin brows furrowing in the center of her forehead. Lord Death noted that the girl's reddish hair was still as frizzy as ever and looking bigger in its usual pigtails.

"Hey, I hope you don't mind, but, uh, I gotta know too. What is with them boys of yours lately?" Lord Sloth asked, staring at the red man through his dark glasses.

".. I'd rather not say. Things are, and will, change and quite soon." Lord Death sighed.

"What's under that cover? Is it a new crown?" Lady Greed smiled widely, her hand reaching for the object.

Lord Death's eyes narrowed and his red claw snapped around the girl's small wrist with a loud crunching noise like an icicle being ripped from its home to shatter cruelly on the ground. Lady Greed's eyes widened as she realized what had just happened and scoffed with a pull away.

Lord Death coolly allowed her arm to slip away. The damage was horrific; her snapped bone peeked out from under her slightly tanned skin and Lord Sloth grimaced as he noticed black blood was sluggishly seeping from her.

"You know better than to touch things that aren't yours, young one." Lord Death chided as he waggled a claw.

"And you know I always forget that rule when I see something intriguing." Lady Greed sighed with a pursing of her lips. "Still.. It would be nice to know what that is, regardless of my injuries."

"Hey, Greedy girl? Cover that up, would ya? Making me sick over here, baby.." Lord Sloth scowled, wrinkling his nose.

"Could you actually speak like a gentleman instead of like those filthy, disgusting bums you accompany?" she snapped. "Why does it even matter if it will heal soon?!"

"Because it's gross and I would want to ruin Lord Death's study by, as we 'filthy, disgusting bums' say, losing our lunch." he jeered.

"Quit pestering one another! You two fight worse than-!" Lord Death snarled.

"Dad! He's bullying me again! He wants to cut my hair!" Boomer shrieked from down the hall.

"That's a complete, utter lie!" Brick growled fiercely.

"Act very natural; the boys best not know of you two yet. Remember our human names." Lord Death commanded.

The other two Immortals nodded their heads diligently. Lady Greed shoved her lifeless, aching hand into her jacket. The door that had been imported from France slammed open with a loud bang, startling Lady Greed, and the boys darted in.

"Dad! He's trying to kill me!" Boomer sobbed as he ducked behind his father.

"I was not! I was just going to help him with his hair issues." Brick scoffed.

"Hello, Brick. How are you?" Lady Greed asked, batting her lashes at the ginger.

Had Brick been one to pay attention, he would have noticed that the pigtailed girl had always given him special affections and was always willing to talk. Unfortunately, Brick was not a person to focus and he merely blinked.

"Um, hello, Princess.." Brick sighed awkwardly. "I suppose it's nice seeing you again..? Oh, hi, Ace. How did that bet with Bobby Rae turn out from last month?"

"Eh, well, I didn't lose." Ace shrugged lazily. "But, I was too, uh, busy to go and collect my dues, so ol' Bob gets to keep his coins for now."

"Why are you always so 'busy'?" Boomer asked inquisitively.

"I.. Had to go to.. Um.." the black-haired man mumbled a decent excuse. "To the doctor's or something."

"Oh, is it because you have green skin?" the blond blurted bluntly.

Brick glowered at his brother, half-tempted to smack him, and Princess rolled her eyes with a curled lip. How stupid could this boy be? She didn't want to know and felt pity on Brick for knowing.

If the twenty-something was insulted, he didn't show it in any manner or form. Instead, he laughed and shook his head.

"Of course not. I was born this way, kid." Sloth chuckled. "Been this way since my mama had me."

"Oh.. Did you know our mom?" Boomer asked.

Ace swallowed nervously, his Adam's apple bobbing, and Princess looked at him curiously. She had been too young to remember the deceased mother of the Death's Trio and Princess had only met her once when she was orphaned at the delicate age of two and a half.

Lord Death coughed loudly into the questioning silence and his sons, knowing the cough was for their attention to be given, looked in his direction. Ace felt relief fill him as the attention was drawn from him, but knew Lady Greed would ask once they left.

"I believe our guests must be leaving now." Lord Death said flatly, staring at the lower Immortals with a heated intensity. "Ace, Princess, thanks you for visiting. We simply must have a discussion on our business again some other time. It was a pleasure."

"You're welcome, Lord Felix." Princess smiled with a curtsy. "The pleasure was all ours. Next time, perhaps, we won't bicker over such petty things as possessions."

Lady Greed's amber eyes stared in Lord Death's defiantly as if to insist that the breaking of her body would never happen again for as long as she lived. Lord Death merely smiled in return as if to retort that indeed, it would.

"Any time, Lord Felix. I'll try to be a bit more productive by our next meeting." Lord Sloth smiled rakishly. "As we street rats say, see ya later!"

"Goodbye, Ace. Farewell, Princess. Good luck with your investments." Lord Death smiled.

The two traipsed through the door coolly and the two sons of Lord Death blinked.

"Hey, Dad? Why do they call you Felix?" Boomer asked.

"That's my name. I do have a first name." Lord Death sighed.

"What were you three talking about?" Brick inquired.

"Nothing important. Just some investments and such for the future." the red-skinned man shrugged boyishly. "Nothing relevant to you two or Butch. Now, run along. I have matters to attend to."

The boys sighed, but obeyed their father's wishes with their previous goal unattained and forgotten like a box of memories in an attic. Once the door was closed, Lord Death glared at the concealed crystal ball and ripped the covering off.

Lord Death's crumpled form rested firmly on the ruined, ravaged throne of his empire with his dead eyes staring at nothing, gray hair ruffled with the hand of desecration. The crown of the Darkworlds lay destroyed by his high-heeled boots.

Lord Felix Death snarled silently at the disdainfully malicious pretense and his claw smacked the crystal ball from the desk. It fell on the floor harshly where it completely cracked and shattered into a thousand and three shards of glistening glass that fell like snow.

-End Of Chapter!-

Me: I know. I made you wait and I apologize. I'm really sorry. ._.ll I punished myself anyway by falling down the stairs and nearly breaking my ankle. Given, it was an accident..

Him: **Sigh** Review or favorite or follow for a parfait.

RRB: You're not being fun enough! Shame on you!

Him: -_- I hate my life.

Buttercup: I hate your life too.

Him: **Glowers**

Me: Well, that's enough of this for tonight! G' nite, folks! Or g'day!


	6. Chapter 6

Kiss Me, Kill Me... RRB X PPG.. By Dark Angel 91398..

Chapter Six: An Offer That Can't Be Denied

Buttercup swallowed nervously as she waited under the frosted trees that Butch had sat in only a few days ago. Though the maiden would never reveal the truth, her heart was buzzing in her chest like a bumblebee that was desperate to find a way out.

The silver blue moonlight illuminated everything in sight and she silently watched the world that had absorbed the distractions of life with her emerald eyes glinting.

It amazed her how peaceful the night was compared to the day. The world was so relaxing and quiet without a worry or care.

The snow still lingered around the village, but instead of ruin the ambiance of beauty, it made the area look magical and enchanting. The precipitation sparkled like diamonds against a curtain of white while the pine trees bent to the wind's command.

It was a rare sight to see the snow untouched and pure like this for Buttercup. Most of the time when she was lucky enough to see the snow, it was a dirty gray color and slushy as it melted away from the human world and most likely, to the underworld.

She sighed, wondering where Bubbles was in the cold night. Though her blonde sister was most likely with her redhead sister, the raven worried.

Being poor and a maid was horrible enough, but not working was even worse. To everyone in the village, it meant one wasn't worthy enough to marry.

Bubbles was too gorgeous to not get married and have a family and be happy for the rest of her life. Buttercup could still remember when they were children and all the boys would give Bubbles the most gifts, saying they'd marry her.

Of course, some of those boys had forgotten those lies and other were married already, but the rest still admired the blonde.

Buttercup was the one that never had that problem since she was regarded as another one of the boys, just a boy in a girl's body. She wasn't as skilled as her sisters in art, cleaning, or really anything remotely considered feminine except knitting and cooking.

A low whistle pried the green-eyed girl from her thoughts and her head turned in the direction of the noise with a glower on the girl's face.

A man with green skin smiled at her dumbly, black hair greased back with some substance that allowed it to shimmer in the moonlight. She frowned as she noticed the elegant cloak around him, one similar to Butch's.

"Who the hell do you think you're whistling at, you rat?" Buttercup spat brutally.

"Only the most gorgeous girl I have ever seen in all my life." the mysterious man smirked, cobalt eyes sparkling from over the top of a dark pair of glasses.

"..." she blinked repeatedly with her mind refusing to work like a stubborn mule.

"What is a pretty, little thing like you doing here, sweetheart?" he asked.

"... That's none of your business." she frowned. "You're not part of this manor. You should go before someone sets the hounds."

"And who would do that to me? Not you. You're way too pretty and nice to ever think about that, right?" he smirked. "Even if you weren't as nice as you look, I wouldn't let you get that far. If you knew who I was, you'd get on your knees and bow at my feet."

Buttercup glowered at the man as he smiled at her, strolling towards her. The crunch of the twiggy earth under his sharp, black boots reminded Buttercup of the snapping of a whip. His eyes seemed to glow brighter with each step.

"Do you know who I am? Hell, I might not be the biggest, baddest of us all, but I can make life hell if I really want to." the man smirked. "Cute, little things like you shouldn't be fucking with someone like me, you know."

A grin broke out of the man's face as the maid's emerald eyes widened. Buttercup backed up against a tree as he reached for her chin and a finger brushed against her soft cheek delicately.

Her bumblebee heart was about to burst from her chest and a deep growl erupted from somewhere nearby. She could barely hear it over the sound of the pounding, but it was a growl.

The stranger scowled as the brunette yanked herself away and reached for her angrily, eyes scalding hot with an infuriated attraction. How could she pull away from him when he was one of the most desired men in the village?!

"If you don't lemme kiss you, we're gonna have a problem here, kid." the green-skinned man snarled viciously.

"If you kiss me, I'll break every single bone in your body!" Buttercup roared angrily.

"Who the fuck are you kidding? I'm a lord, baby, and I have the power to kill you." he snickered. "Lord Sloth, at your service. Either you and I can get along or I can hurt you in a way that makes your head spin."

A louder howl overwhelmed the pumping of the girl's heart and she closed her eyes as Lord Sloth's talon-like hand brushed against her skin, letting a razor sharp nail drag across the bottom line of her jaw.

"Don't touch her." a guttural snarling voice commanded. "I will rip your head from your body and slaughter you like the pig you are if you touch her, you bastard..!"

Buttercup opened her eyes at the sound of a sharp hiss and blinked as she saw a black scaly hand snapped around Lord Sloth's wrist. Her eyes traveled over to the owner and her heart stopped.

Butch's dangerous eyes were focused on Lord Sloth, narrowed and dagger sharp slits, but she could tell he knew she was looking over at him with wide eyes. The maid noticed how his neck and arms were covered with shining scales of obsidian, his teeth sharp like a predator's.

The rumors were true. Lord Disaster really could turn into a dragon. She could faintly see the shape of them, but Butch did have tattered wings and something like a tail wriggled between them irritably.

"H-Hey, Butch. W-What are you d-doing?" Lord Sloth stammered nervously as the half-dragon boy's claws dug into his skin.

"She's mine! What the hell are you doing with something that's mine?!" Butch demanded angrily.

"So, this is why you've been slackin' lately.." Sloth mumbled. "Does your daddy know yet?"

"Shut up, Ace, or I'll tell my 'daddy' what you did. You remember, don't you? When you-?" the green-eyed boy hissed.

"Whoa, B-Butch, c-calm down! You start snitching on me and we both go down!" Lord Sloth snapped anxiously. "I had no fucking clue this broad was yours, okay?! I-I'll go!"

"Damn right, you will." the dragon-like boy growled, releasing the other Immortal's wrist.

The man rubbed his sore arm and sneered at Butch darkly, cobalt eyes burning with a deep hatred for the teenager who dare opposed him. He ignored the feeling, knowing if he hurt the boy that Lord Death would surely kill him, and turned back to Buttercup who could only stare with wide eyes in shock.

"I'll see you some other time around." Ace smirked unwisely.

Butch let out a sound between a roar and a word in warning, lunging for the green-skinned man, sword swinging quickly through the air. Buttercup barely dodged the wild weapon as it carved a path too close to the maid for comfort, right where the left side of her head would have been if she hadn't moved.

Ace cursed as the blade nicked its way down his cheek and he jumped back from the angry boy whose eyes were like a poison, an acid, burning their way into his soul. Butch slashed through Lord Sloth's cloak and he laughed insanely as the sword lifted up, following a trail that would certainly lead to the man's throat.

He would rip Ace limb from limb after slitting his throat, slashing and mangling until there was nothing left of the street rat but a bloody tangle of broken glasses and clothes. Nothing would remain and he would make sure of it. The bastard tried to kiss Buttercup and he would pay. Oh, yes, he must certainly would, Butch would make sure..

And that sword was so close to that treacherous man's throat that Ace could feel the cold feeling of the silver radiate from the metal, only for it to stop.

Butch blinked and felt the girl's hands over his, pulling the sword back from beheading the man, form so close to his that he could feel her breathing on the nape of his neck.

Ace didn't question a thing. He turned his back and bolted as fast as he could away from the demonic boy that was so ready to kill him, the man could taste it in the air.

Butch growled as he allowed her to unclench his fingers from the sword and watched as it dropped on the frozen ground. He knew his body was shaking from all the bundled up rage and adrenaline that coursed through him and he was panting.

It surprised Lord Disaster that the girl would even try to stop him when he was in a half-and-half transformation like his current form. Didn't she know he could just jab her with the tip of his tail and she would die or that he lost almost all control if he was infuriated enough? Or didn't she care?

Buttercup carefully pulled away from Lord Disaster. He was already mad as it was and there wasn't a reason for him to not kill her. After all, the maid had just stopped him for decapitating an obvious enemy of his.

"Why did you do that?" Butch deadpanned. "Why the hell did you stop me?"

"... I didn't want to be around if anyone died." Buttercup said. "I.. It's not right for you to kill someone like that."

"Not right? Are you kidding me?" he laughed. "You really need to pay attention. I am a killer. I kill and kill because it's my job. And you're telling me it's not right for me to kill someone like him?"

"I-." she started.

"You don't know anything!" he snapped bitterly, turning to face her. "He's nothing but scum! He deserves to die! You don't know a thing! You shouldn't have gotten involved! But, no, you had to! You just had to get involved!"

"Don't you yell at me!" the maid snarled. "It's not my fault you don't have any morals! I do, and I'm not going to apologize for it! I wasn't going to let you kill someone, even if they are scum!"

"I should kill you, I really should!" Lord Disaster sneered. "I should have killed you the day we met!"

"Then, why don't you?" she retorted angrily. "I dare you to. Go ahead and make my day, Lord Disaster!"

"I would, but I believe we had a deal." he replied sarcastically in a monotone.

"No! I will never, ever visit you!" she spat. "I never want to see you again for as long as I live! You don't know how much I want to punch that look off of that stupid face of yours!"

Butch stared at the maid, trying not to let his heart break, trying not to beg her to change her mind, and most certainly, trying not to snap her in half like a twig. Her emerald eyes bore deep into his and the boy broke the staring contest as he sharply pulled his gaze away to a tree.

"If you didn't like me, then why didn't you just say it?" Butch smiled in a sickly sweet manner that put Buttercup on guard. "Why did you have to pretend to somewhat enjoy my company?"

Buttercup swallowed, taking a step back, as a small grin grew on Butch's face. Why did the most insane member of the community have to be a member of the Death Trio and here alone with her?

"You can leave now if you wish." he sighed. "We're through with one another, aren't we? Just like a child with a toy..."

Buttercup gave him a wary glance that Butch returned with the smirk on his face still present and turned. He lunged for her and tackled her onto the ground, lifting her face up with a tight grip on her short hair. She cursed under him.

Butch sighed as she tried to strike him and nimbly pinned her arms to her sides. He was really trying to play nicely, but it wasn't fair of her to have said all those nasty things. He was obsessed with her, painfully so, and it killed him to be rejected so coldly.

"You promised me!" Butch hissed into her ear softly. "I could have killed you and I didn't! You said you'd either work for the manor of Lord Death or visit me and you'd give me an answer, but what did you do? You insulted me."

"Maybe I wouldn't have if you wouldn't have made me mad!" Buttercup retorted.

"You shouldn't have intervened!" he insisted.

"Maybe not, but I certainly didn't want to have to witness another death!" she grumbled.

"Are you going to visit me or what?" he sighed after a long pause.

"No." she snarled pointedly.

"Then, looks like you have to work for me now whether you like it or not. How fun!" he exclaimed sarcastically.

Buttercup's mind stopped at the words and her eyes widened for what seemed to be the millionth time that night. She couldn't help but start to writhe under Butch as if in pain, hyperventilating. He smirked, lifting her into his arms and holding her tightly to prevent her escape.

"Y-You know I c-can't! I-it's not fair! Butch, please!" Buttercup pleaded. "I-I can't and you know it, please!"

"Of course, you can! We're friends, right?" Lord Disaster smiled icily.

"B-Butch, I'm serious!" she protested. "Lord Disaster, please! I-I.."

The ending of her sentence was lost under her breath as she mumbled and Butch frowned as he tried to decipher the words.

"What about you?" Lord Disaster sighed.

"...Betrothed." Buttercup whispered. "I'm betrothed."

Butch's gaze was heavy and blank on her, lacking emotion yet overflowing with them. Horror and shock stung him like wasps with a dark vengeance. She hadn't been engaged a few days ago, so why was she now? Why did it have to be her?

"No. You're not." Butch swallowed, trying to convince himself more than persuade her.

"Yes, I am." the maid contradicted.

"You can't be... You're not allowed to be." he mumbled.

Buttercup ignored his rambling comments and his grip tightened on the girl's form. It very near crushed her. Butch didn't want to loosen the hold even as he heard her wincing in pain. He didn't want to lose her.

"Y-You can't get married.." Butch murmured.

It made him feel pathetic as he realized how obsessed he was with her. How intent he was on having her with him at all time, always by his side. She couldn't get married, not now when he just had her in his grasp.

The quiet made sense to Buttercup in that moment and it made her uncomfortable. This... Boy was in love. With her. The silence made sense; there wasn't a word to speak between the two of them that wouldn't lead to something that made even less sense than what was happening.

Butch tried to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach that felt like lava was lurching around his body and she didn't question it when she thought she felt tears on her skin.

"I-I.. I-I'm taking you with me." Butch whispered hoarsely. "Regardless of what you say."

"I don't want to get married either, but kidnapping won't help a thing." the girl said quietly.

If the maid thought the comment would make a difference, it didn't. The words fell on deaf ears and she was carried off from the arranged marriage silently.

A/N: I apologize, but I feel like I've rushed this too much and created a dramatic.. Thing in the middle of this story too much. For those disappointed, I apologize and I'll try to do my greatest (Or even more so) next chapter. Um... Here's an apology cookie in the mean time.. I had edited this a lot, but this draft is no doubt the better of the three.. Forgive me? *Puppy eyes here*


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